The eclipse is still in the sky. The Morningstar, the true god sitting upon a throne, lived in this high tower — a utopia only imagined in a delusional world. You knelt before the Morningstar and stared straight at him as the golden sun on the center of his mask shone. He slowly walked towards you, hitting the floor with his halberd at regular intervals as he approached you.

He, the new Lord of Babel, laid his eyes on you, and a grin appeared on his face. "What brings you here? Speak up."